


Bittersweet

by Ancalime1



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Autistic Bruce Banner, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Intense cuddling, M/M, Pressure Stimming, SO YEAH IDK ENJOY, also this is vague as hell like. it's the first time they're snuggling but idk what the timeline is, autistic thor, oh yeah and, they're really just cuddling but it reads like it could be sexual so tagging as M to be sure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-31 12:04:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21445942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ancalime1/pseuds/Ancalime1
Summary: He falls into bed with Bruce, and it’s like drowning in bliss.(Late submission for Day 5: Sweet)
Relationships: Bruce Banner/Thor
Comments: 2
Kudos: 53
Collections: Thorbruce Week 2019





	Bittersweet

**Author's Note:**

> Alright so like  
I like pressure-stimming and wiggling around a lot and decided to inflict it onto these two  
But then I realized that in my purple-prose style, I made it read somewhat sexual, even if there's like. Nothing going on lol  
SO ENJOY AT YOUR OWN RISK AND WHAT HAVE YOU

“This is a dream,” he says.

Bruce is standing there, bathed in sunlight, hands stuffed into a soft hoodie. Thor cracks a smile, and his hands find their way into the scientist’s. “‘Then it is a good dream,’” he recites in his best Arwen voice.

Bruce laughs, and Thor’s cheeks immediately flush with delight. He’s always loved Bruce’s voice—gentle and soft and kind, like the shy dapple of sunlight on skin. How privileged he is to hear it, he thinks.

His fingers travel to Bruce’s cheeks, flitting over wrinkles and pores, hungry to drink in their touch. Even the roughest patches feel like fine satin beneath his fingers, or the touch of grass beneath his toes after a quiet evening rain. He traces his jawline and gently makes his way to the feathery silver-kissed curls that fall about his face, longer now that time has passed. His eyes peer into Thor’s and then flutter downwards, sweet and shy. Thor gives him a slight smile, then presses his forehead to his, cradling his head in his hands.

They stand like this for several minutes. They do not speak, but instead relish in each others’ presence, cherishing the sweet silence. _ I can’t find the words, _Bruce had told him, on late nights in tears. Thor wanted so badly then to hold him closer, to tell him that they didn’t need words, that having each other was enough. If only Thor could have found the words himself.

He unclasps his hands from Bruce’s head and pulls him up against his body, wrapping his arms around the smaller man’s waist. And gods, he is… warm, so blessedly warm. He feels Bruce’s heart race against his own, trilling in rhythm to his like two birds in song. He lets his hands fall to the small of Bruce’s back and then to the curve of his hips, and Bruce leans into the gesture, a small contented noise chirping from the back of his throat. He cuddles closer, drenching Thor in warmth. Thor thinks that if the sun was capable of an embrace, this is how it would feel. 

He falls into bed with Bruce, and it’s like drowning in bliss.

Bruce lets out a breathy gasp as Thor hauls him onto his body, allowing his full weight to smother him. There is the _ swish _of fabric as Thor tugs a series of plump, fluffy blankets over them, till they are utterly hugged with warmth and pressure. He feels the jagged outline of Bruce’s hips, and the excited swell of his chest against his. Thor shudders in delight, his hands curling round Bruce’s waist, wanting him closer, closer. Bruce wants it too, he finds, and he feels the other man’s hips begin to rock against his own, churning against them as waves do to stone. A soft moan escapes Thor’s lips, and he melts into the delicious crushing pressure of Bruce’s body kneading his own. 

Thor rolls him over and returns the favor. And gods, does he feel _ good _beneath him—something ignites deep inside of Thor, and a noise like a purr rumbles in his throat as he pushes his hips into Bruce’s. Heat, pleasurable heat blooms between them, and he hears Bruce moan beneath him, one hand gripping the bed, the other grasping Thor’s waist.

They both get tired, eventually. Thor collapses beside Bruce, heaving short, excited breaths into the warm space between them. Bruce looks at him and smiles, and Thor’s cheeks burn with color. His eyes feel warm on him, like the splash of warmth from a flickering campfire, or the kiss of a candle’s glow. Thor smiles back at him and pushes his face beneath his, nuzzling his neck and losing himself in a forest of soft brown curls. Bruce giggles and pulls him closer, so that their bodies are flush together, their bellies pressed comfortably against each other. Thor’s skin prickles with delight, and he twines his legs around Bruce’s till he is almost enveloped by him. He lets out a breathy sigh, wiggling contentedly against him beneath this succulent pressure, in this quiet and beautiful space. 

This space. This beautiful sanctuary, this hidden pocket in their corner of the world. He thinks about the loneliness they shared, the silent longing, the ache in his chest when Bruce had said, “_ Where in the world can I go where I’m not a threat? _” 

_ Here, with me, _ Thor had thought at the time, though he was too ashamed to say it. _ You’re not a threat to me. _

But now Thor feels him, feels him here in his arms, and he is present and so delightfully _ tangible _ . He sees Bruce’s eyelids flutter over velvety brown irises, his lips curving into a sleepy smile, his legs hugging Thor’s tight. And he is _ safe, _ even with his barriers down, even when there is nothing but the clothes on their backs separating him. And Thor thinks that perhaps, _ perhaps _Bruce has begun to trust him.

“You know,” Thor says, and the words almost feel wrong in the silence, a drop of oil floating in water. “Part of me thought this day would never come. Part of me… is still convinced that this _ is _a dream.”

Bruce’s eyes flicker open, and there’s a knowing sadness in their depths. “I know,” he says, his voice faltering. “Me… me, too.”

Something lodges itself in Thor’s throat just then, and he feels tears tug at the corners of his eyes. “It’s been so long,” he rasps, his cheeks burning red-hot with embarrassment. “I—I’m sorry, I don’t know where this is coming from—”

“Shh, it’s okay,” Bruce says in a soft voice. He gives Thor a gentle smile, and brushes his finger against his cheek. “We’re here now, aren’t we?”

Thor sniffles, and his lips crinkle into a smile of his own. “Yeah,” he breathes. He mirrors the gesture and traces his own finger along Bruce’s cheek, and his eyelids flutter dreamily and cause Thor’s chest to glow with warmth. “Yeah. I guess we are.”

Bruce’s eyes close, and sleep touches his sweet face. Thor nuzzles him once more, settling into the comfortable crook of his body, in the warm cocoon of their bed. “I love you,” he whispers, pressing a gentle kiss to his neck.

“I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you thought, or come say hello to me @autistic-thor on tumblr <3


End file.
